


To Heal a Broken Heart

by JSinister32



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Anal Sex, Beverly Ships it With Force, Confessions, Confessions of love, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Hannibal Lecter is the Chesapeake Ripper, M/M, Oral Sex, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:00:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSinister32/pseuds/JSinister32
Summary: Will Graham is handed a bomb of information pertaining to his best friend and psychiatrist, Hannibal Lecter that shatters his world apart.  Heartbroken, he withdraws from everyone in an attempt to decide the course of action he wants to take.When Hannibal shows up at his door, he's forced to make his choice, for better or worse.
Relationships: Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 29
Kudos: 230





	To Heal a Broken Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to release this piece for Valentine's Day, but it ended up being far longer than I expected. Although it didn't go exactly where I expected, I'm still happy to release it to all of you.
> 
> Happy belated Heart day, my darlings. I hope this story brings you a little dark and decadent joy.
> 
> Hearts and Body Parts,  
> JM 🤍

_And in those moments_   
_When you feel afraid to trust love,_   
_Remember that I have crossed_   
_A great ocean of loneliness to find you._

_Mine is not a fair-weather heart._   
_It was built to outlast storms._   
_-John Mark Green_

* * *

[04:40PM] _Good afternoon, Will. You_ _’ve missed your appointment for the second time in as many weeks. Need I remind you that I require a 24 hour cancellation notice?_

[04:55PM] _To what do I owe this digital silence?_

[05:11PM] _It is not healthy to keep your emotions bottled inside. You have experienced first hand what can occur when you do so._

[05:46PM] _Talk to me, Will. Please._

***

**Friday, February 12th**

Will glared at the screen of his phone, reading the most recent of Hannibal Lecter’s texts. He dearly wished with everything he was that his heart would cease its incessant pounding; it didn’t matter how he felt about the man. Their long conversations that ended in a shared glass of wine, the sickened feeling he got in the pit of his stomach when he thought Hannibal had been hurt or worse at the hands of Tobias Budge, the stunned awe he felt at the doctor’s nimble ability to save a life in Silvestri’s ambulance; none of it mattered in light of his new discoveries. 

Beverly had come to him without approaching Jack; she knew on instinct that he’d want to give Hannibal the chance to confess or defend himself. The hair sample she’d found in his home and one of the locks wound with the rest of the lures that had played their part of the evidence against him when he’d been incarcerated… it belonged to the man to whom he’d been spilling his most intimate secrets. Hannibal had created the lures; he had access to all the same places within the Bureau Will himself was able to walk through without so much as a second glance. He had been in his home, dined at the same table, placed his hands upon Will’s forehead amidst the fevered episodes where he lost time, brought him back to safety. Yet all the evidence added up to one irrevocable conclusion.

Hannibal Lecter was a monster.

Will knew he owed it to himself and whatever friendship he and Hannibal had been cultivating to talk with the other man. Sit down with him in the quiet of his home or his office, discuss the facts of what had been discovered. Listen to his side of the story. The only problem was he knew it was true. There was too much evidence to deny it. _It just hurts so fucking bad, knowing that he betrayed me._

Whiskey did nothing to dull the pain, but it blurred enough of his mind that the evening passed in a haze. The hours were marked by the level of liquid in his glass. It didn’t take long for the tears to come; he had no dignity left, so he curled beneath the softest blanket on the couch and let them come. Part of him understood that this careful display of emotion away from anyone that would try to help him was the only way to feel better.

It didn’t take long for the tears to dissipate. Once they did, Will fell into an alcohol infused sleep. His nightmares failed to wake him. They wouldn’t dare offer him any kind of respite.

***

**Saturday, February 13th**

Will woke with a disoriented start, his entire body drenched in sweat. Long moments passed before his heartbeat slowed. He stared at the ceiling and wished everything would stop spinning long enough for him to think. When calm returned, he made his way to the bathroom and turned on the shower. He felt like shit; no sleep would have been better to what he’d experienced when he finally fell into unconsciousness. Stags paraded through blood soaked fields, and Hannibal’s pleas and professions of love and remorse echoed through his ears, even as he lowered the noose over the doctor’s head. His own head ached fiercely, bright flashes of light dancing behind his alcohol soaked eyes. He wanted to vomit, but knew from experience that his stomach wouldn’t contain enough to do more than dry heave. _Figures. Can_ _’t catch a break. No sleep. Quiet this time of year, getting my life back in order, and the only person I want to see is the person I absolutely cannot bear to look at._

He climbed into the shower, hissing as the icy needles stung his skin. His phone buzzed while he added shampoo to his hair, but he ignored it. The water sluiced over his body, raising goosebumps along his chest and stomach. He gritted his teeth and rinsed his hair, scrubbing himself down with as much care as he could muster. The calming scent of mint and eucalyptus eased its way through his senses, helping him breathe. _Huh. Who knew that breathing hurts when your heart hurts. I_ _’d forgotten it could do that._

He shut the water off and toweled dry. Reaching for his toothbrush, he cleaned his mouth without looking at himself. He didn’t want to see the lost look in his own gaze. He didn’t need to know how much losing the other man affected him. He put his toothbrush away and ran a comb through his hair, adding deodorant beneath each arm before hanging the towel he had slung around his hips. Leaving his phone on the counter of the bathroom, he turned out the light and went in search of clothing. Something soft, soothing against his skin.

The sweater was the deepest shade of red possible; almost black. It hugged around him, the sleeves just a little too long; enough material to hide beneath. The pants were cut well but still comfortable, so black, they’d looked as if they’d been made from the inky darkness of space. The subdued colors made him feel safe; less fragile, less broken. _Power colors. Heart_ _’s blood and ink. Colors he looks great in._

Will collected his phone from the bathroom and made his way to the kitchen in search of something to eat, only checking the messages that awaited him when he’d managed a single fried egg and a cup of coffee. To his initial relief, most of his messages were from Beverly. The relief didn’t last long; the more he read, the more his stomach sank.

[09:08AM] **Are you okay? Do you want to talk?**

[09:11AM] **I know it was a bomb to drop in your lap. I** **’m sorry. It’s obvious, you know? How you two feel about one another. I can’t imagine how difficult it is for you.**

[09:17AM] **I** **’m not going to breathe a word of this to anyone, Will. It’s up to you to make that decision. There could be a logical explanation for it**.

[09:19AM] **For the love of God. You need to talk to him. He called me, and I didn** **’t answer his questions. I can’t ignore them forever. He will go looking in other places.**

[09:22AM] **Plus, you owe yourself a proper explanation. Don** **’t let your empathy and your chronic need for details get in the way of how you feel. Ask him, or so help me God, I will tell him and send him over there.**

He reached for the coffee pot and refilled his cup, tapping out a quick reply to the dreadful woman before she could cause any more harm.

[10:18AM] Jesus, Bev. I was asleep, then I took a shower to clear away some of the cobwebs. I haven’t found the right way to talk to him yet. Don’t you dare interfere. This mess is your fault, but it doesn’t mean you can exacerbate it. I know I need to talk to him. I just need to figure out what to say.

Satisfied at his response, he took a deep breath and thumbed over to Hannibal’s messages.

[09:16AM] _Your stubborn refusal to speak with me is losing any novelty it may have had. I cannot fix what I don_ _’t know is broken._

[09:41AM] _Have we not grown close enough to at least discuss what may be bothering you? I tried to contact Jack and Beverly; neither answered my inquiries to any satisfaction._

Will’s stomach tightened. _Of course we were close. More than anything, I want you to make this mess go away, but I don_ _’t know if you can do that. What if I find out it’s all true? What if your promises to help me, protect me, were only to keep my suspicions of you at bay? Christ, I don’t know if I’m ready for those answers. Not yet._

He locked his phone and slipped it into his pocket. Picking up his coffee, he wandered to the front door and let the dogs out, taking a seat on the front porch to think. A third message from Hannibal came through, and he read it without replying.

[11:58AM] _Have you so little regard for what I have done for you that you can_ _’t pay me the same respect?_

_I do respect you, Doctor Lecter. I_ _’m just not sure if I’ve ever known you._

Will didn’t return to the house until the sun was high in the unblemished, brilliant blue sky. The dogs swelled around his feet in an effort to get inside and claim the best bit of floor before the others could do the same. His phone continued to buzz, interrupting his jumbled thoughts. Eventually, he powered it off without reading any of the messages that came through. Tossing it on the counter, he made his way into his bedroom and fell into bed. He burrowed beneath the covers and tried to forget the scent of Hannibal’s neck when they embraced.

***

[10:26PM] _This pointless lack of contact will come to a conclusion, Will. And although I wished it to be of your own volition, I will force your hand if necessary._

***

**Sunday, February 14th**

The knock on his door brought Will slowly from his rest. Although the sound came with some expectant urgency, he didn’t surface from sleep immediately. It came in stages, waves breaking on the shores of his consciousness. When he realized it wasn’t part of his lucid state, Will sat up and rubbed his eyes, glancing blearily at the clock for the time; the brilliant red lights showed it to be just past midnight.

_Shit. Must be Jack with another body. Why didn_ _’t he just call?_ It took him several tries of unlocking his phone to remember he’d turned it off. _Answers that question._ He tossed it to the bed and padded to the front door, stretching his arms above his head to release the tension in his back. Without checking to see who was on the other side, he flipped on the porch light and pulled the door open without any preamble.

“Jesus Jack, I’m sorry. I had my phone-” His heart thudded quietly in his chest before falling completely silent. For a moment he stopped breathing altogether, frozen in place by the visitor on the other side of the door. Hannibal stood in the ring of light, clad in a dark grey three piece suit and long black overcoat that likely cost more than Will’s entire wardrobe. His hands were encased in a pair of leather gloves, a long dark scarf wound its way around his slender neck. He looked cool, pristine, and unimpressed, staring down his nose at where Will stood dumbfounded, barefoot and sleep tousled, framed in the light of his doorway.

“Hello, Will,” Hannibal murmured. His eyes flashed down the profiler’s frame before meeting his startled gaze. Maroon eyes the same exact shade as his sweater bore into his own. Will swallowed hard; his heart attempted to pound its way from his throat. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck._

“Hannibal, I-” The doctor inched a step closer.

“Whatever you are about to say will likely be as unimpressive as your inability to answer your phone, or show up for your appointments,” he barked. Will trembled and took a step back into the safety of his home.

“Y-You…” Hannibal sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is insensible,” he muttered. Looking back at Will, he smiled tiredly. “You and I seem to have much to discuss, and I would rather not do it while freezing on your doorstep.” He took a step closer, closing the distance Will had earned himself with his step back. “Would it be remiss of me to ask to come inside?” Will stood in the doorway a moment longer before he took another step back, gesturing silently for Hannibal to follow him inside.

***

After shedding his coat and shoes, hanging them on the hooks in the hall reserved for guests, Hannibal made them tea. Will watched with silent fascination as the other man made himself at home, instinctively knowing where he kept his tins of tea leaves, straining them at the perfect temperature before adding a small swirl of honey into Will’s cup. He passed it over the counter and the profiler took it into his hands, wrapping them around the pale blue porcelain surface to absorb the heat he so suddenly needed. _Cold from standing in the doorway. It_ _’s not his presence, or what I think I know. It’s not any of those things. Just… cold._

“Would you be more comfortable if we took a seat in your lounge?” Hannibal asked. His own slender fingers wrapped around his cup, his skin turning pink where he absorbed the heat from the tea. Will nodded without a word and lead the way. Instead of taking a seat, he made his way to the fireplace and tossed in a few logs, piling them up in a stack that would allow the fire to breathe. He added a small amount of kindling to the base and reached for a match, striking the long wood against flint. He lit the debris beneath the logs and watched as the wood caught and smoked, slowly turning into an actual fire. 

He closed the grate and stood, dusting off his hands. When he turned, he found Hannibal curled up into the overstuffed chair, a blanket tucked around his shoulders. The doctor was watching him, a look of rapt wonder etched into his features. Without a word, Will collected another blanket from the couch and wound it around himself before folding into the far side of the couch. _Distance. Keep my distance so we can talk without the allure of proximity._ He watched Hannibal’s features relax into the warmth of the firelight and waited.

“Why are you avoiding me?” the doctor asked without preamble. Will watched the shadows dance across his handsome face without responding. Their eyes met; Hannibal’s flooded with something very close to fear. _Fear_ _… he’s not afraid of anything. Why is he looking at me like that?_

“I was given some information and needed some distance to decide how I should proceed,” Will finally croaked. He cleared his throat, embarrassed. 

“Information about me?” Will nodded, lowering his gaze to the floor. Hannibal sat forward, the blanket slipping from his shoulders. He’d removed his suit jacket in the time it took Will to start the fire; his shirt was the color of Will’s eyes. _We match. We fucking fit one another to perfection and we don_ _’t even try._ Somehow, the sight of Hannibal in his shirtsleeves, in that soft, bright blue made it hurt more.

“Yes. Information about you,” he replied. “Information that was given to me discreetly, and to nobody else. The person who handed it over knows how-” his words cut off suddenly. It was too much, too fucking much to admit it. _How I feel about you, felt about you before I thought you_ _’d do this to me._ Hannibal watched him, his face unreadable. They sat, regarding one another warily, letting the silence swell around them. 

“What did Beverly find?” Hannibal asked quietly. The question froze Will’s blood in his veins, sending the sparkling shiver of fear in a sharp line along his spine. _Christ, how did he know?_

“I never said-”

“You didn’t have to.” Hannibal smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He sat back in his chair, drawing the blanket back around himself; he looked ten years younger than Will knew he was. As if something important had been taken from him, something that mattered. With a sigh, the doctor’s eyes closed. “Please. Do not continue with this pretense, and tell me what she found that’s distressed you so much that you felt the need to hide from me.” Will swallowed audibly, but didn’t reply.

“The lures.” Hannibal’s eyes snapped open. As their eyes met, Will knew it was true. Every thought, every scheme, every horrible thing he’d endured at the hands of Frederick Chilton and the flashes of Hannibal speaking to him in soft, urgent tones… they had all happened. Hannibal watched the horrible realization fill him, eyes glassy with fear and something else, something Will couldn’t quite name. _Shame,_ he realized. _It_ _’s shame he’s feeling. He didn’t think I’d know, that he’d ever have to face what he’s done._

“Will-”

“No.”

“You don’t understand-” Something inside Will broke. He could almost hear it snapping in two; the fragile dam that held back all of his fear, all the turmoil he’d internalized, all of his emotions towards the other man that he so desperately tried to keep in check, shattered into a thousand pieces. Everything he’d bottled up for so long came rushing forward in an unstoppable tidal wave; Will physically braced himself, trapped within the whirlwind, forcing his lips to remain closed, desperately trying to hold on. _I need you. Jesus, I_ _’d need you now more than I ever have. And you- y-you-_

_“_ Get out,” he seethed. He curled up into his corner of the couch, drawing his knees to his chest. He could feel his heart breaking; the dam inside released the tide of emotions, left them free to wreak havoc when he refused to set them upon the man who so deserved his ire. In retribution, his need for Hannibal, his utter sense of betrayal, threatened to shatter him to pieces. _I showed you who I am. I gave you more than I_ _’ve managed to give anybody in my lifetime. I handed you every broken part of me, and you used me._

Will’s eyes fell shut; the tears that had been threatening spilled down his face in hot rivulets, burning tracks down his skin to pool on his jaw. He furiously wiped them away. The sob burst from his throat, loud and sharp as glass. _Fuck. Fuck, I-_

Hannibal stood, letting the blanket fall from his shoulders. Watching Will’s face, he moved closer, sinking onto the opposite end of the couch. Will drew his feet away, pulling the blanket with him. He didn’t want any part of himself to touch the doctor; he wanted to hurl himself into the other man’s arms, hit him, break him. Make him feel splintered, like he felt inside. _All I wanted was to truly be your friend. All I wanted was you, and you took it from me._ Hannibal looked small, lost on the island of the other side of the couch. The Grand Canyon could have opened between them for the distance they were separated.

“Will-” Hannibal began. Will shook his head furiously.

“No. You lied to me.” Hannibal sighed and nodded.

“I have not been fully transparent with you, no,” the doctor confessed. He ran a hand through his hair, stared down at his hands. “But I have my reasons, if you will give me a chance to explain.” The profiler mulled it over, running his tongue along the back of his teeth. He didn’t want to listen to anything Hannibal had to say, didn’t want to hear any more lies. He couldn’t bring himself to force him to leave. _If this is to be the last time I see him, there should be truth between us._

“Fine,” the profiler sighed, resigned. “Fine, just…” he swallowed hard, his throat dry. Hannibal watched Will’s face, his maroon eyes gentle, understanding.

“I will not lie. Not to you. Not anymore. But you have to promise me one thing.” Will didn’t respond. “Let me say what I need to say, and do not interrupt. I will only be saying it once, and if you try to speak over me, I will not continue. Whatever is to happen will transpire without you understanding.” Will met Hannibal’s eyes for a brief moment before flicking away towards the fire.

“Fine,” he muttered, pulling the blanket tighter around him. Hannibal nodded, and reached for his own blanket, wrapping it once more over his shoulders.

“I should warn you, we may be here a while. There is a lot to tell.” Will nodded.

“Fine. Just get on with it.” The doctor shifted his eyes to the fire and began to speak.

***

“Long ago,” Hannibal began, “I was not as I am now. I was young and free, and I came from a prominent family that adored me. I had a sister; a beautiful, bright soul who enraptured all who knew her. Her name was Mischa.” Hannibal paused, staring into the fire. Will watched his face, already drawn in by the hypnotic cadence of the other man’s voice. 

“She was the light of my life, the center of my world. I would have done anything in my power to ensure her happiness, but she was not meant long for this world.” The emotions that trembled along the edges of his speech threatened to spill over into his words, but Hannibal kept them in check. He reached for his now cool mug of tea and took a long sip.

“She and my parents were the victims of senseless violence, and she met a particularly gruesome end,” he continued. “I prefer not to go into details-” Will snorted.

“I thought you were going for honesty, Doctor Lecter.” The title hurt. They had come so far, climbed so many hills together, and he was now relegated back to the furthest thing from familiarity that could still be considered his name. _He does not mean harm. He is hurting, too. And you could have avoided this entire mess with honesty when you grew closer._

“I am being honest with you, Will,” he replied, his voice aching. “However, I need you to understand that parts of my past are even uglier than the crimes I’ve committed against you.” Will blinked in surprised, then crossed his arms over his chest. The blanket bunched, revealing the very tips of his toes. Hannibal stared at them, his chest aching; he had no idea such a small vulnerability could be so affecting. 

“If you want to know the whole, ugly truth…” he hesitated, letting it ease up from the rooms where his family stayed, locked behind doors to keep him safe. “We were overtaken by deserters, men that fled the army in favor of wreaking havoc on nearby villages. We never felt the need to be fearful before; my father was not prepared when 12 men rode onto our land.” The vision of his mother and father swam before his eyes; the brilliant green of her dress; the kiss of red as blood spilled from her throat. His father struggling to save her, only to be stabbed in the back, the wounds black in the setting sun. Mischa’s cries, the small wails he’d tried to conceal when they came for her.

“My parents were butchered as my sister and I stood watching from the entrance to our home,” he murmured. Will’s eyes widened; of all of the stories he expected, the fate of Hannibal’s parents was not it. They’d spoken briefly of his family over one of their many dinners, but Hannibal had always managed to steer the conversation away from the particulars of their location. Will had long accepted they must have perished. _But this_ _… this would leave a wound. And a deep one._

“What happened to your sister?” he asked before he could stop himself. “What became of Mischa?” Hannibal met his eyes, smiling sadly. 

“The men overtook the house,” he replied. “My sister and I were locked away to work as slaves, our own servants butchered and thrown into the yard to rot beside my parents. We did what we were told; kept the house clean, cooked, took care of their needs. Our circumstances were tolerable for a time, but when the weather began to turn, the men squatting in our family seat did nothing to prepare.” Hannibal took another sip of tea, letting his frantic pulse settle. _I never believed I would need to tell you everything at once. I never feared telling you one day_ _… bit by bit. But you want my story, and so you shall have it._

“When the snow began to fall, they ordered all of the animals butchered at once. It was unnecessary, and they lost a good portion of the meat before it was cold enough to preserve it. Their situation turned from sumptuous to dire in a matter of weeks.” Will furrowed his brow, but didn’t speak. “They ran out of food,” Hannibal clarified. “They believed they’d have enough to sit out the winter, but none had ever spent the cold months as far North as our home. When the meat was gone, they boiled what little stores of vegetables we had; the broth lasted the longest. Once it was all gone, they took to consuming shoe leather.” His small smile turned grim. Will’s breath caught in his throat; he had a feeling he knew where the story was going to go. He didn’t want to hear, didn’t want to know.

But he’d asked, and now he had to suffer the consequences to the bitter end.

“One of their own perished from lack of nutrition,” Hannibal murmured. “There was barely anything left of him at that point. He was practically skin and bones. But when he died, they spent days in a furious battle as to what to do with the body. Most didn’t want to let the meat go to waste, and in the end, he was butchered. We were forced to cook him, and consume small parts to keep us going.” Hannibal laughed bitterly. “What they never understood…the worst of winter was still yet to come, and he lasted little more than a fortnight, even using his bones for their marrow. When there was nothing left, they turned their eyes to another prize.”

Dawning horror filled Will’s face.

“No.” Hannibal nodded sadly. 

“Yes. They killed her, and I was forced to cook and consume enough to survive. My Mischa… My light…” The doctor covered his face with his hands. “She was gone, and I couldn’t save her. I collected her milk teeth from their stool, kept them safe so I would have something of her, but her light was extinguished.” A deep, roiling pain filled Will’s stomach. _How could anyone survive that?_

Before he could ask the question, Hannibal continued, rolling the threads of the blanket between his fingers. “I ate enough to save my strength. Even my sister… I consumed part of her. She kept me strong, sustained my life in a way I couldn’t do for her. And one day, as they all lay in our home, I escaped into the woods. They gave chase, to be sure… but I knew the land and all of its secrets. She did not betray me; I came safely to my aunt and uncle’s estate within the month. I was cold and tired; almost nothing was left of me. They fed me and nursed me back to health. My uncle sent a regime of men to look in on the estate; he discovered the bodies, except for Mischa. The bodies were burned to ash and buried, the house closed up until I could one day take my place there.” Will stared at Hannibal’s haunted face, trying to keep astonishment from his eyes. _Jesus. Oh god._

“So… what happened next?” 

“I stayed with my family,” the doctor replied. “My uncle taught me to seek revenge, my aunt gave me the training and the temperance to wait until the right time. I hunted them down, one by one.” Will swallowed, afraid to ask the next question. 

“And… the bodies…” Hannibal didn’t meet his eyes. _Holy shit. He ate them._

“Not all of them, Will. One still remains.” The doctor shifted, turned in his seat to face Will properly. “You know the rest of this tale. I spent many years traveling, settled in Italy for an extended period of time. I took to drawing buildings from memory, earned myself a place at Johns Hopkins. Became a surgeon, then a psychiatrist, and made my home in the fine city of Baltimore, where I met the most intriguing and terrifying person I love and loathe to know.” Will shivered. They had come to his part in this tale at last. _Fuck. Now that I know all of that, I almost don_ _’t want to know. It’s… it’s monstrous._

“When Jack came to my office, I was convinced he’d discovered many of my crimes and was there to obtain some sort of confession,” Hannibal murmured. “Although limited, my appetites were forever solidified in my need for revenge. My palate has, of course, become more refined with time, but the result is the same.” Their eyes met; Will flinched. _Holy fuck. He just confessed to me. He_ _’s the Ripper. My best friend… the man I have thought about while… oh my god._ Hannibal nodded his understanding.

“I had no idea that I would be asked to work alongside one of the most brilliant men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. When I met you, I saw what was wrong with you, why your mind and its games hurt you so much.”

“You knew about the encephalitis,” Will accused. “Even then, you knew.” Hannibal nodded and tapped the side of his nose.

“The olfactory senses never lie, Will. I could smell it on you, a cloying scent that clung to your skin, your hair. You smelled like madness, and I was at once addicted.” Will shrank back into the corner of the couch.

“I was right.” Hannibal tilted his head.

“About what, precisely?” 

“You’re a monster.” Hannibal nodded.

“I would not disagree with that assessment,” he acquiesced. “But let me finish, and see if you find me in any way redeemed.” He drained the mug of tea and set it back on the table. Leaning forward, he adjusted the blanket to cover Will’s feet; the profiler flinched away. Hannibal tried very hard not to be hurt. _He still believes me a beast, but it is because he doesn_ _’t know how deeply I feel. He has yet to understand._

“You know by now that I instigated the fall of the Shrike,” he began. “You know that I set you up to fall for my own crimes. But what you have never understood, nor would I dream of telling you without knowing how you feel… felt…” Hannibal’s voice lowered, coaxing him, pleading with him. _Please. Please just listen to me. Hear me and make of it what you can._

“I… missed you. When you were gone. Incarcerated. Although I still played my games, I grew tired of them, especially when they didn’t bring me the satisfaction of your company. I knew you sent Beverly to look into what I was doing, and I let her live because she means something to you. I derailed her investigations to be sure, but only for her own safety. That’s why she hasn’t found anything until now.” Hannibal’s heart pounded in his chest, threatening to beat itself to pieces against his ribs.

“I wish you no harm, Will,” he continued, his voice soft as smoke. “I have not wished you harm for a great deal of time. I’ve been actively working towards healing your mind. During your incarceration, I kept Frederick from sinking his teeth into you irreparably. Now, we’ve become… close. So close that I did not take the proper precautions to ensure there was no remaining evidence to tie me to framing you. I knew I would tell you who and what I am… one day. I didn’t realize that my own hubris would be my undoing.” 

Hannibal reached forward; slowly, gently, as if coaxing a frightened animal. Will sat still, frozen. The psychiatrist touched the back of his hand; the gentlest of contact, ready to move away at the slightest hint that it was unwanted. Will let the touch fall, linger. The dark, hidden part of his soul, the part that enjoyed the blood that spilled at his own hands, purred. _Yes. Oh god._

“I have not felt for anyone as I feel for you,” Hannibal whispered. His fingers caressed the top of Will’s hand, the sensation sending shooting thrilling sparks of pleasure down his spine. The affection he always felt when in Hannibal’s presence came rushing forward from behind the barrier that had taken such a beating, but he held it in check.

“H-How do you feel?” Will stammered. Hannibal’s fingers found the inside of his wrist; his thumb strummed lightly over his pulse point. _Fuck. Oh fuck._ He could feel himself harden, his body reacting to the other man’s touch. Hannibal coaxed him to turn his hand, palm upward, and stroked his fingers through the spaces made for him.

“I feel… free,” He whispered. “I have held the burden of my family and what they cause in me for so long, unable to tell anyone. Nobody would understand the history, what it created, what I do. It is how I cope, the reaction to the actions that rained down upon me at such an impressionable age. I rarely take anyone these days; one or two every few years. Those whom have proven themselves to be unforgivably rude, no more than meat for my table.” Will nodded, swallowing hard as Hannibal’s fingers found their way beneath the sleeve of his sweater. _The sweater I chose because it is the color of his eyes. The clothing I wrapped myself in because I couldn_ _’t have him, but I can’t let him go._

“I do not believe in apologies for actions, Will,” Hannibal murmured. “The deed is done; if one was sorry for it, they would not have done it in the first place. Children are the only exception, and neither of us has been in the flushes of youth for some time.” Will smiled; a slight lift to the corner of his lips. Hannibal’s heart thrummed gently at its reappearance. _There you are. Just a little further, please. A little bit more for you to know._

“I can have… regrets, though. I feel the greatest regret for my actions concerning you since we’ve begun to grow close.” The fingers quested along Will’s skin, encircling his wrist gently. His heart pulsed with the feeling; although Hannibal was a bastard, a liar, and had broken part of him… he was also his best friend. The only person who knew both the light and the dark inside of him, a man to coax forward his deepest desires, bring them to the forefront, make him examine them at length, accept who he was to the fullest. Will wanted to sob; he wanted to beat his fists against Hannibal’s chest, demand that he leave. He wanted to kiss him, beg him to take him to bed, make him forget the entire conversation. _Fuck._

“What am I supposed to do now?” Will asked quietly. “I can see you now, Hannibal. See who you are and why. I have thrown lights into the darkest part of who you are. Some would say I… empathize.” Hannibal met his eyes, a tentative smile on his lips. Will wanted to kiss it away. _Please,_ he begged silently. _Please show me, tell me what to do. I can_ _’t do this without you._ The fingers encircling his wrist pulled, dragging him forward. The doctor allowed the movement to propel them both backwards until he lay prone beneath the profiler, the blankets bundled beneath them. Will lay his head tentatively on his chest, listened to his heart thrum in his chest. The sound, knowing Hannibal was alive and so desperately near, comforted him.

“I do not know,” Hannibal admitted. His hand drifted up; careful to keep from touching too much of Will’s skin, he carded fingers through the profiler’s curls. A small, content noise escaped Will’s lips. _God, please. I want more._

“I should hate you. You’ve given me nothing but lies and pain. You’ve driven me to the brink of insanity, just to see what would happen. I should make you leave, let my heart break, reconcile myself by calling Beverly and telling her to deliver her findings to Jack.” The fingers in his hair stilled. Will immediately missed their stroking. 

“And do you?” Hannibal asked. Will frowned against his chest.

“Do I what?”

“Hate me. Wish to turn me in for my wickedness. See me behind bars.” Will took a deep breath and closed his eyes. _He_ _’s been honest. The only thing I can do at this point is reciprocate._

“No.” Hannibal relaxed, his hands returning to the profiler’s curls.

“No what?” 

“No, I don’t hate you. I don’t want to turn you in, not really. But I am angry with you.” The doctor nodded slowly.

“Your reaction to my confession is, of course, understandable. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Will’s stomach tightened. _In for a penny, in for the whole fucking ton._

“Yes,” he replied simply. Hannibal’s fingers found their way beneath his chin. He tilted the profiler’s face until their eyes met; blood meeting sky.

“Tell me. I will do anything.” Will closed his eyes, unwilling to meet the honest, earnest gaze, looking at him with such hope. _Please. Please understand._

“Kiss me,” he whispered. “Kiss me until I have no breath left. Take me to bed. Fuck me until I’m yours, until I’ve forgotten that you betrayed me. Fuck me, and love me, and never let me go.” The fingers on his chin tightened.

“Look at me, Will.” He couldn’t deny the demand. He wanted to; he wanted to bury his face in the warmth beneath him and wait for his cheeks to cool. He wanted to run.

He opened his eyes. Hannibal smiled gently and leaned forward. Their lips brushed, soft as a feather. Will shivered and caught the kiss, a small, tight sound escaping like a secret in the small space that separated them. Their mouths sealed, parted and sealed again. Hannibal groaned beneath him and grasped Will’s jaw, tilting his face to deepen their kiss. A small shiver of breath broke between them; Will turned until he was laying against Hannibal’s body, their chests, stomachs and hips completely aligned. Hannibal hooked a leg around Will’s calf, bringing them flush. The second kiss came crashing into them like a wave; their mouths stroked and sealed, tasting, exploring. A tentative brush of tongue against Hannibal’s bottom lip, a gentle question. Hannibal smiled against the profiler’s lips and licked his way into the hot depths of Will’s mouth, claiming him to his very soul. 

They kissed there, on Will’s couch until time melted away to nothing. Will could feel his heartbeat pulse along his body, fueling his desire to claim the man pinned beneath him. He hardened, a secondary reaction to his undeniable attraction. Unconsciously, Will’s hips began to rock. Hannibal could feel the thick erection pressing into his stomach, searching for any kind of relief. He broke their kiss with a gasp, a low moan escaping his throat as their cocks aligned, nuzzling together through the fabric that separated them. His hands quested lower, stroking with longing against Will’s sides. The profiler whimpered and filled Hannibal’s mouth with his tongue, grinding his cock against the answering hardness he found in the v of Hannibal’s legs. They rocked together, sharing gentle kisses and moans as they sought this first, soft pleasure. _Fuck_ _… oh fuck, I’m not going to last…_

As if sensing Will’s urgency, Hannibal wrapped his fingers around his hips, stilling the frantic movement to which he’d taken. Will broke their kiss, a question on his lips, but the doctor silenced him with a gentle brush of his mouth. He steered the profiler back and Will, finally understanding, stood on shaky legs. Taking Hannibal’s hand, he stumbled to his bedroom, pushing the door open with more force than was necessary. It hit the wall with a resounding bang, but Hannibal caught it on the back swing, using Will’s body to close it completely. He crowded the profiler against the solid wood, his lips caressing the long column of his throat, kissing his way up along his jawline, gently tracing the shell of his ear with his tongue.

The sound that escaped the profiler’s lips was almost inhuman.

“Christ, Hannibal-”

“Sensitive, darling?” the doctor purred. Will nodded frantically. _Fuck. Darling. He called me darling._

“Y-Yes-” Hannibal hummed contentedly, capturing the lobe of his ear between his teeth. The sucking noises were almost enough to make Will come on the spot. His knees went weak, his cock throbbed painfully against the front of his pants.

“Oh- Oh please-” Hannibal chuckled.

“You’re so tactile, Will. I could listen to you moan for me all night.” Will tried to swallow, but his throat had gone dry with need.

“Please, Hannibal- I want-” The doctor reached for the hem of his sweater.

“Everything. I will give you everything.” The sweater fell to the floor with a soft flump. Before it could fall, Hannibal was already working on the button of Will’s pants. They popped open and the profiler groaned with relief; the pressure on his cock eased enough to let him breathe a little easier. Hannibal sank to his knees before him, breath ghosting over the flat planes of Will’s quivering stomach. His beautiful, maroon gaze turned upwards, asking.

“I want to taste you,” he murmured against the front of Will’s boxers, ghosting over the straining erection beneath his boxers. “I want to feel you in my mouth. Feel you shake for me, bring you to the brink of ecstasy.” Will panted at full pelt, bracing himself against Hannibal’s shoulders as the doctor helped him step from his pants. Without a word, he swept the profiler into his arms and carried him to the bed.

“This is likely going to be better if you aren’t forced to try and stay upright.”

“Fuck-” Hannibal pulled his hips to the edge of the bed, helping him to sit. Will brushed a lock of fine, straight hair out of the doctor’s eyes; Hannibal caught his hand and guided both into the wonderful softness of his hair. _It_ _’s okay to grip. To hold me where you need me._ Will’s eyes widened, but he nodded, sliding his hands through the silver and gold strands.

Hannibal lowered his mouth and kissed the wet crown of Will’s waiting prick. He swept his tongue over the swollen flesh, tasting the tangy precome where it welled up against his skin, used it to wet the join of his lips. Without further preamble, he opened his mouth and sank down onto Will’s cock, almost swallowing him whole. The profiler moaned, his hips twitching upwards to meet Hannibal’s careful movements. The doctor chuckled and slid his hands up to grip Will’s hips, effectively holding him in place. Will watched with rounded eyes as the elegant, refined man that kept his mind intact closed his eyes contentedly and started to suck. 

_Oh god- oh fuck I can_ _’t-_

Sounds poured from the profiler’s lips, broken cries and professions, insubstantial pleas for more, to suck him forever, to take him. Hannibal rubbed his tongue along Will’s frenulum; Will cried out beneath him, squeezing every scrap of air from his lungs. The profiler’s legs began to shake, his entire body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Gently, with the utmost care, Hannibal disengaged his mouth, kissing the swollen, pink length that still shone from his attentions. Will collapsed back to the bed and tried to remember how to breathe.

“Fuck-” 

“Good?” Will nodded, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. Hannibal brushed their lips together fondly.

“I’ve just begun to discover you. I still have so much left to learn.” Will watched with heavy lidded eyes as the doctor made short work of his own clothes, letting them fall around him like rain. Gloriously naked and utterly masculine, hard planes of gently sculpted muscle and warmth, Hannibal crawled on top of him, pinning Will to the bed. Their lips met, sealed, broke and sealed again. Will could taste himself on Hannibal’s lips, the realization thrumming through his veins like lightning.

It took them another hour of gentle foreplay for Will to lose his ability to speak altogether. He could no longer remember his name when Hannibal reached into the drawer beside the bed for lube. He dispensed the gel onto his fingers, stroking and coaxing the hard knot of muscle between the profiler’s quivering thighs. The first gentle push into him almost put Will over the brink. They panted together, overwhelmed.

He relaxed beautifully around first one, then two, and finally three of Hannibal’s fingers, begged to come with every breath left to him. Hannibal kept him on the brink, carefully avoiding his prostate until Will melted into the sheets. Only then did he climb between his legs, his entire body shaking.

“Are you ready, love?” Hannibal whispered. Will nodded, unable to speak. The spongy head of his cock rubbed against Will’s stretched entrance, teasing, kissing. Will opened his mouth to beg, but the sound cut from his throat as Hannibal pressed forward. 

Stars burst behind Hannibal’s eyes, bright flashes of light filling his vision. Will was tight and hot, so relaxed and ready that he didn’t feel a sliver of pain. The doctor filled him, pushing until their hips came flush. Will smiled up at him, wrapping his heels around Hannibal’s thighs. _Please. Want you. Need it._

Hannibal began to move gently inside him, so slowly, Will could barely feel it. With a groan, he dug his heel’s into Hannibal’s legs. The doctor leaned forward and kissed Will’s throat, pushing back into him with the same gentle rhythm.

“I’m not going to break,” Will panted. “Please- for fuck’s sake please- just have me.” Overcome, Hannibal leaned down and brushed their lips together.

“If that is what you wish,” he breathed against Will’s parted lips. He pulled out and dragged Will to the edge of the bed, bracing a knee on the mattress while planting one foot on the floor. Pinning Will’s legs open, he began to thrust. 

Will tried to keep quiet, but Hannibal fucking him brought every cry, every needy moan trapped within to the surface. He huffed, panted, pleaded with the doctor to take him, stroke him, make him come. Hannibal only grinned, and picked up the pace.

It took twenty minutes for Will’s orgasm to break across his skin. Hannibal fucked him until he could take no more, finally forming a sleeve around his cock, fucking him through it as he arched for him on all fours, body pinned low to the bed in submission. His climax blistered through him, wrenching him apart, blowing him away to dust. All that was left was the feeling, the roiling pulse beneath his skin. White hot peaks of pleasure burst through him, blinding his vision to bright shocks of color. He could feel himself tighten around Hannibal’s cock, feel the pulsing, pounding rhythm that brought Hannibal to the brink, tumbled him over the edge. Teeth found his shoulder, digging in, pinning him in place as Hannibal fucked him through his own climax. It stung, blistering through what remained of his senses.

He’d never felt so fucking alive.

They collapsed to the bed, a mess of lube and come, sweat pouring from their bodies in rivulets. They stared at one another sleepily, calm and sated. _This is what it feels like,_ Will realized. _This is how it feels to trust. To love someone so much that you can give them everything._ Overwhelmed, he buried his head against his lover’s chest. The quiet hugged around them, holding them as gently as they held each other.

It took them two tries to stand so they could shower. The lights stayed off; Will knew his toiletries enough to find his body wash in the dark. They soaped each other gently, washing the sticky mess from their bodies. Hannibal ran his shampoo lathered fingers through the profiler’s hair, rinsing the sweat from his scalp. Liquidly relaxed, Will tried to stay awake, but it was a very near thing. The doctor turned the water off and dried him, gently amused as he fought to stay upright.

“Stay,” Will mumbled against his shoulder. “Please- don’t leave now. I need you here.” Hannibal’s hands momentarily stilled.

“I wouldn’t dream of leaving,” he soothed. “I need to hold you, too.”

Darkness overtook them the second they climbed naked beneath the sheets. A small part of Will’s soul repaired itself as he slept in Hannibal’s arms. 

***

Will woke to the sound of someone in his kitchen. Blinking blearily in the bright light of late morning, he yawned and stretched. His muscles protested; it had been longer than he cared to remember since he’d used them in quite such a rigorous fashion. The night and its memories came crashing into him, bringing with them a smile that wouldn’t quite dissipate. _Christ. That really happened. Hannibal_ _… he was here. We fucked. We actually had one another. I slept in his arms. He held me all night._

Grinning, Will rolled from the bed and made his way to his bathroom, his legs aching with every step. The mirror showed him the spectacular bite along his neck. He stroked his fingers over the swollen, heated flesh, feeling oddly proud. _Claimed. This mark will be here for a time, as if he wants others to know, to wonder._ He washed his hands and held a cool cloth to the bite for a moment, reveling in the color before placing the cloth back near the sink.

He moved back to the bedroom and pulled on a pair of black boxer briefs and dark green lounge pants. Bare chested, he padded down the hall, in search of the man that had staked his claim so deeply the night before.

Hannibal stood at the stove, looking comfortable in a grey long sleeved shirt and jeans so pale, they were almost white. Will stopped in his tracks, taking a moment just to stare at the man before him. _He left. Left and came back, dressed like he_ _’s walked out of my daydreams._ Without preamble, Will wrapped an arm around the doctor’s waist, kissing the side of his neck.

“Morning, love,” he rumbled, running his nose along Hannibal’s hairline. He could feel the doctor’s happiness as if it were a physical presence. The hand not holding his spatula covered his own. Hannibal turned and laid a brief chaste kiss to Will’s waiting mouth.

“Good morning, darling. Did you sleep okay?” Will’s heart hurled itself into the stars.

“Better than you can ever imagine.”

***

**Three Weeks Later**

“So you see, it’s a good thing you checked the lures. Hannibal was likely the next target, and his murder would have also been on my rap sheet.” Beverly leaned into her lab table, sipping coffee with a gloved hand that had just been six inches inside an elderly man’s chest. She hummed in agreement, but her eyes stayed glued to the side of Will’s neck. The mark that Hannibal had left faded, but not completely. His skin would always carry the mark of the night their relationship changed irrevocably to what it had become since.

“Sounds like you got it all figured out,” she finally agreed. “No harm done to anyone, and explanation is solid enough that it will pass.” Will cleared his throat uncomfortably.

“Beverly-”

“Can it, Will. You already know that the evidence tells me a different story. If you’re happy telling your version though, who am I to stand in the way of that?”

“And you won’t-” She shook her head.

“Nope. Hannibal is better in your life than out of it, and what happened is between the two of you.” She gestured to his neck with a grin. “But if it turns out he’s a werewolf, be sure to use silver.” Will snorted into his coffee and rolled his eyes.

“I’m going to tell him you said that,” he warned. Beverly grinned.

“Please do. Five bucks says he blushes.” She held her hand out, eyes challenging. Will took it without hesitation.

“You’re on. I’ll snap a picture of his reaction and send it your way.” 

“Make it a video and you’ve got yourself a wager.” She flapped her arms in dismissal, turning back to the body on her table. “Now get out of here and let me work. You two have a body of your own to look at.” 

“That we do,” Will agreed. He turned on his heel and made his way out of the lab. When he was sure Beverly couldn’t see him, he pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text message to the man waiting four levels above him.

[11:08AM] On my way up, love. Beverly is good.

[11:10AM] _Is she indeed? Happy to hear. Make haste, darling. Jack has asked me to accompany you to a crime scene._

[11:13AM] Almost there. Also, Bev and I have a bet about your reaction to a statement of hers. School your face properly. I have to take a video and you can’t laugh.

[11:14AM] _Far be it from me to quell your competitive streak. I shall do my best. May I ask to what this bet is pertaining?_

[11:16AM] Nope. Reaction has to be real, or she’ll know. She’s smart like that.

[11:18AM] _How fortuitous that you are dating such and accomplished liar, darling. Now hurry, and try to pretend we didn_ _’t have sex in Jack’s office last week. I highly doubt he’d appreciate the humor in it._

_Christ, I love you. I love you more than life._ Will slipped his phone back into his pocket and suppressed the grin that wanted to break out across his face. If he could just prevent himself from looking at Jack’s couch, he’d be fine. Probably.


End file.
